


To My Dearest

by doridoripawaa



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Doropetra, F/F, Love Confessions, Love Letters, No Lesbians Die, Not Actually Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25913950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doridoripawaa/pseuds/doridoripawaa
Summary: Petra has been writing an awful lot of letters lately... but for whom?
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	To My Dearest

_ All is well in Fodlan. _

Dorothea yawned and stretched, sending small shivers racing down her spine. She blinked some of the bleariness out of her eyes as she tried to adjust to the darkness of her room, with only faint starlight as her guide. The mage was not unaccustomed to following a harsh daily schedule, but on some days, waking up at the crack of dawn felt exceptionally difficult.

"I had better wake Petra," she murmured groggily, and with a sigh she turned and swept her legs off the edge of her bed. Morning patrol duty could be a drag, but at least Edelgard was a reasonable, just commander who acquiesced to most of the Black Eagles Strike Force's requests regarding their assignments. Dorothea was not afraid to team up with anyone on the Force, but quite candidly, she enjoyed her mornings with Petra the most, and so she made a private request to be paired with the princess as often as possible.

Dorothea's footsteps were muffled as she walked across the stone floors, the long skirt of her gremory gown trailing behind her as she headed for Petra's room. She rapped her fist gently on the other girl's door, and then stepped back as she waited for her to open it.

No response.

Slightly confused, Dorothea knocked again with a little more force. Maybe her first attempt had been too soft. One moment passed, and then another, yet Petra still did not answer her door.

"She's so responsible," Dorothea murmured, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "She would never forget about morning duty."

"Who is forgetting about the duty?"

The sudden voice behind her nearly scared Dorothea out of her wits, but as the brunette whirled around to face its source, her anxiety evaporated like morning dew. "Petra!" she exclaimed, and her face flushed when she realized how loud she was. "Petra," she repeated more quietly but with the same degree of warmth to her tone. As relieved as she was to see her friend, she couldn't help but allow her gaze to wander to the item in the princess's hand.

Much to her dismay, the glassy eyes of a rabbit corpse seemed to be staring directly back at her.

"You… went hunting?" Dorothea guessed, and Petra nodded fervently.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, but then she quickly lowered her voice after realizing she made the same mistake as Dorothea. "Yes," she reiterated. "Saor was needing breakfast. I also shot a deer, but she had eated -- eaten -- the deer before I could be retrieving it." She smiled softly and tightened her grip on the lifeless rabbit's ears. "I was wanting to bring deer for the camp and to give rabbit to Saor, but maybe we can be sharing the rabbit later, Dorothea," she suggested.

Just how hungry was Petra's wyvern if she needed to eat an entire deer? Dorothea felt her eye twitch as she looked at the tawny furry body swinging back and forth like a ragdoll as Petra moved and gestured while she spoke. "I…" She swallowed hard. "I would be honored to eat anything you caught," she told her. That was the truth. As long as she didn't have to see the carcass, Dorothea was not particularly picky about what she ate: life on the streets had hardened her stomach.

"Are you ready for the patrolling?" Petra asked. She slid past Dorothea into her bedroom, opening the door with her free hand. 

Dorothea mumbled a quick "excuse me" as she followed the hunter into her quarters. "I am ready when you are," she informed her. Her green gaze flitted about the room. She usually only caught glimpses and peeks of the room's contents when she met up with Petra for their duties, but she never actually took the time to sit down in her room and actually absorb what she was taking in. Bows and arrows, hunting knives, and animal skins adorned an entire wall. Beads, ropes, and other accessories were strewn about a stone table. At the edge of the room, resting on a desk, Dorothea noticed a sheet of paper with a quill beside it.

As Petra shuffled around to find a bag or box or something to carry her prey, Dorothea allowed her curiosity to get the better of her and edged closer to the desk. Straight lines of text in beautiful handwriting stretched across the page. 

A love letter?

Greedily Dorothea shuffled closer and closer until she could discern the writing on the page.

Except… this was not any type of writing that she recognized. The symbols on the page were completely unfamiliar to her. Was this not a letter at all? Was Petra sketching some type of interpretive art?

"Dorothea?"

For the second time that day, Petra's familiar, friendly voice sent an unjustified rush of terror through the mage's body. "Y-yes?" Dorothea stammered as she spun around to face the wyvern rider.

"At what are you looking?"

Busted.

"Oh, I was just admiring all of the unique knick-knacks in your room," the brunette explained hastily. "Are these weapons and accessories from Brigid?"

Petra beamed at her and nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, they are." She slung a bag over her shoulder -- probably toting a hare's body inside -- and walked over to her bedside table. She ran her hand across its stone surface then rested it atop a beaded necklace. "I could not take every of thing -- I mean, everything -- when we left Garreg Mach five years ago," she murmured sadly, "but I have saved the most important belongings from my home." Her fingertips traveled to a bracelet and then a ring, and she smiled wistfully at her collection. Finally she lifted her russet-colored eyes to Dorothea, who was still trying to peek at the paper on her desk. "You can read Brigid language?"

"Oh, that's what that is!" Dorothea exclaimed. "Er, no, I cannot. I'm sorry." That explained why the marks on the page looked like writing but Dorothea could not discern their meaning. "Are you writing to someone?"

Petra nodded. "My grandfather," she replied. "I am writing him often. I am wanting him to know I am safe, but also I am wanting to tell him that I am doing what is best for Brigid."

"I see," Dorothea murmured. She could imagine that the king of Brigid was not thrilled at the prospect of his granddaughter joining Edelgard's cause. In fact, she presumed that most of the people of the island nation wanted to use the war to join sides with the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and rebel against the Empire's rule, which had trapped them for so many years. A peculiar voice crept into the back of her mind:  _ 'Then it is not a love letter,'  _ it whispered.

Did that fact please her or disappoint her?

"Shall we be flying or walking for patrol today?" Petra asked, now making her way to the door. "Since Saor has had breakfast, she can be carrying us both."

"Oh, please let us go by foot!" Dorothea cried as she scurried over to the door. "I will lose  _ my  _ breakfast if we fly!"

* * *

_ Please do not worry about my well-being. I have found a home here. _

Dorothea never imagined that she would find herself in a position where she would voluntarily sign up for morning patrols, but when had her life ever unfolded the way she planned?

Besides, if waking up early was the price she had to pay for spending more time with Petra, then Dorothea was willing to make that sacrifice.

Petra was a morning person, as Dorothea had come to realize. She was enthusiastic about the prospects of enlisting for the morning patrol, since she was already awake. Her sole request was that she had time to do a bit of hunting first when she desired.

She sat on Petra's bed as the princess shuffled around her desk, looking for a quill from Brigid that she wanted to show off. Dorothea's lips parted in the beginning of a yawn, but she quickly clamped her hand over her mouth so that Petra would not notice. The mage had gotten into the habit of going to bed earlier so that she could still obtain the proper amount of beauty sleep, but a late-night strategy mission had thrown her schedule into disarray.

The songstress had more difficulty fighting her urges when she was tired, and she couldn't help but notice that her eyes kept drifting to a piece of parchment on Petra's desk. Another letter to her grandfather, judging from the unfamiliar script on the page.

"Aha!" Petra whipped around triumphantly, wielding a large feathered quill in her hand. "This is a quill from a bird not found in Fodlan," she explained. Blues, greens, and ambers swirled and overlapped into patterns that Dorothea would love to trace with her fingers. "I am liking the black eagle feathers," she added hastily, "but Brigid feathers are beautiful too."

Dorothea nodded solemnly in agreement. "Brigid is full of beauty," she agreed, as her emerald eyes drifted back to the kind, energetic, wise face in front of her. Both its products and its people were undeniably beautiful.

"You have seen Brigid?" Petra asked, puzzled.

Dorothea shook her head ruefully. "No. I've never left Fodlan. I didn't exactly have money growing up." She crossed her legs and then shrugged casually. "I mean, I would love to go one day, but we're pretty busy right now." She laughed a little coldly. As delightful as her mornings with Petra were, Dorothea couldn't exactly forget the bloodshed, battle, and brutality that threatened them every day and night.

"When the war is being over."

Dorothea's head perked up. "Sorry?"

Petra's maroon gaze seemed to burn into her green one, like flames licking at treetops. "I am… full of gratitude for my friends in Fodlan." Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "As a child, Fodlan was a prison to me." Slowly, uncertainly, she began to take shaky steps forward towards the bed. The hunter was a shrewd and cautious woman, but Dorothea had never seen her look so… nervous. "But Edelgard and the professor made Garreg Mach and the Black Eagle Strike Force my home." She knelt down in front of Dorothea, not once blinking or shifting her gaze. "Fodlan is not my home, but my friends are my home." Still trembling, Petra tenderly reached out and cupped Dorothea's hands in her own. The princess's warm, caramel hands enveloped her cold, milky ones. "When this war is finished, I am wishing for you to be seeing my homeland. With Dorothea in Brigid… I am bringing my home to my home."

Maybe Dorothea was misinterpreting the statement. Maybe she was only hearing what she wanted to hear. But the answer came to her swiftly and assuredly.

"I'd love to, Petra. As soon as the fighting is done, I'd like nothing more than to see Brigid with you."

The sun had not yet risen outside, but the radiant glow from Petra's smile could easily have outshone its rays.

* * *

_ I have found a reason to fight. I fight for strength, for honor, for pride, for home. _

"Petra," Dorothea began as gently as possible. "If you rush out there so recklessly again, I am going to zap you with Thunder so hard that you will be too shocked to move." As much as she hated to be blunt, she needed to get this message across.

"I have understanding," Petra muttered, and she winced as the mage applied an herbal salve to her thigh. "I was not thinking it was reckless," she added, trying to defend herself.

"You probably also weren't thinking that they had assassins hiding in the foliage," Dorothea added with a frown as the healing glow finally subsided from her hands. "My magic can only do so much. You'll need to be careful to prevent this from getting infected."

"I am always acting with care," Petra insisted. A blush rose to her cheeks as Dorothea raised an eyebrow at her. "Except for today."

Dorothea sighed and brushed a loose plum-colored strand of hair from the princess's sweat-coated face. "I'll help you get back to your room," she offered. "You need rest." Before Petra could object, Dorothea leaned in to prop up the princess with her shoulder. She slung an arm around Petra's waist and tried to shift the wyvern rider's weight onto her own body.  _ 'Her abs are amazing,'  _ she couldn't help but notice. Now her cheeks were starting to grow pink, probably matching Petra's own.  _ 'And her biceps! No wonder she can wield such enormous axes!' _

As exhausted as they were, the two managed to shuffle into Petra's quarters. Dorothea helped lower the wounded warrior into a seated position on her bed. "I'm going to go see Edelgard and ask her to give you a couple of days off from morning duty." Disappointment flashed across Petra's face, and Dorothea winced internally. "Just until you can walk again. I'm sure Ferdinand would love to accompany me," she added with a sigh. "Rest up, Petra. I'll be waiting." She winked at the princess, who nodded and cast her a bittersweet smile. 

As Petra began to shuffle into her bed, the gremory spun on her heel and prepared to leave the room. Despite herself, her eyes wandered to the parchment and quill resting atop Petra's desk at the side of the room. The princess's grandfather probably would not be thrilled to hear about her injury.

_ I have found someone who is good for me. _

Dorothea stopped in her tracks. She could make out those words as clear as day.

_ You. You are my home. You are the one who will make me, and Brigid, stronger. _

"Dorothea?" Petra called out from underneath her blankets. "Are you okay?"

_ I want to be a queen who will make you, and make Fodlan, be shining bright. _

The brunette swallowed hard. A love letter. "I almost forgot," she responded, fumbling around for an excuse as to why she had hesitated at the door. "We got a delivery of four-slice tea. I know that's your favorite." She had no right to pry; she needed to get out of here as soon as possible. With whom would Petra share that treasured tea time? "Good night!"

Calm as she walked out the door. Cool as she closed it behind her. Collected as she took her first few steps away.

Crushed as she scampered back to her own room.

_ You have said I am a perfect princess, but I am thinking that you are the perfect queen. _

_ It is impossible to be imagining life without you. You are... precious to me. _

_ I am in love with you, Dorothea. _

With the goddess's blessing, hopefully she would get the chance to deliver her letter as soon as possible.   
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Katie for another commission! I am loving all of this wlw content.


End file.
